Wonder
by just.keep.swimming.slowly
Summary: George Weasley isn't easily surprised, although, what would you expect when he's got a twin like Fred? The arrival of a new face, however, changes this. For better or for worse. Set during PoA and on. [Rewrite of Interlude]
1. To Be Really Free

Chapter 1:_ To Be Really Free_

**A/N: No, I don't own Harry Potter. Sadly.**

**Oh well.**

_Why we can't be  
or see who cuts us asunder  
like a boor felling a tree_

_Wonder _by_ Soap&Skin_

* * *

_-George-_

Surprise is an emotion I don't normally find myself faced with. Living with a twin like Fred, and siblings like the ones I had, you become somewhat desensitized to most things that would be surprising.

You can imagine my surprise then, when I heard that Dumbledore had called for a school wide meeting in the middle of September.

"Wonder what old Dumbledore wants us for." Said Lee Jordan as he, Fred, and I approached the Great Hall. I shrugged and grinned at Fred.

"Weird, don't you think? We haven't had a school meeting since it was our first year and McGonagall was trying to figure out who'd been leaving all that catnip in her desk," I said with a smirk.

Of course it had been me and Fred. Lee suddenly looked a little apprehensive.

"You don't think this is about all the bars of soap I've been leaving in the potions classroom?"

"One way to find out," Fred said. He gestured to the doors in front of him and Lee and I slipped into the great hall quietly. We were obviously the last ones in, as the doors closed behind us with an ominous thud. I sat beside Ron and Lee with Fred directly in front of me.

Suddenly, the room quieted down into a hushed murmur, and then into pure silence when everyone turned their attention to Dumbledore at his place at the podium. I found my mind wavering as Dumbledore said some opening words before the start of our meal, to the events of the past summer.

The usually cheery halls of Hogwarts had been slowly drifting deeper and deeper into a strange gloom since the escape of Sirius Black; Fred and I had been trying to lighten the mood, although our efforts weren't always appreciated.

Fred kicked me under the table with a grin and a nod at Dumbledore who had once again resumed his spot at the extravagant podium.

"I hope you all have enjoyed your meals tonight," this was met by appreciative claps and noise. Dumbledore waited for it to subside with a patient smile on his face and his hands clasped behind his back, "I'm sure you are wondering why you've been called here tonight, this is indeed the first meeting we've held in quite some time."

He turned his twinkling eyes onto Fred and I and we grinned back.

"However tonight, the subject will be slightly different,"

Lee visibly let out a shaky breath. I rolled my eyes at the back of his dreadlocked head.

"This summer, I began correspondence with Headmistress Walcott of the Goodwin School for the Magical, Headmaster Arnold of Clarke Academy of Magic, Headmistress Harding of Royden University School, and Headmaster Russell at Ann Arbor Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had all mentioned that it would be a marvelous opportunity for a student of each school to attend Hogwarts for the remainder of the year, as do I. We agreed that a single student from each school would be permitted to join us, and these four students will be arriving in two weeks' time and will be sorted. I expect nothing but courtesy and welcome from everyone here."

Well that was unexpected. I glanced at Fred, and he seemed excited enough about the whole ordeal.

Huh.

"Are there any questions?" A few hands shot in the air and Dumbledore smiled happily.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Sir, I was wondering, could you give us any more information on the students?"

"Ah, of course," he pulled a small roll of parchment from his pocket and read off of it, "from Goodwin, we have Max Terrell; Ivy Miller from Clarke; Lenore Hedley will be joining us from Royden; and Ross Cannon from Ann Arbor. All of the students are in their fifth year."

Hermione nodded her head and beamed. She looked excited by the prospect of a fresh face, as did many. When Dumbledore called on a sixth year in Ravenclaw, I got lost in my thoughts again and didn't even notice that the meeting had come to a close until a sharp blow to the back of my head shocked me out of it.

I made a rude gesture to Fred, who was standing behind me and grinning.

Lee ran off in front of us to bother Katie Bell, and we shambled along with the crowd headed to Gryffindor tower.

"Hope we get someone decent," said Fred with a smirk.

"You just hope that one of the birds is fit." I said.

"Hey! I resent that! One of the blokes could be a good roommate too,"

"Probably be a right sight better than Robbins, anyways."

"I'm not sure how we put up with that prat for so long. He's worse than Percy,"

I threw an incredulous look at Fred and snorted, "No one is worse than Percy,"

"Got a point there, Georgie. Although, you have to at least agree that a fresh bird wouldn't be bad."

"Never said it would," I said grinning.

"Let's hope for your sake that one of them is."

I shrugged and stuffed my hands in my pockets. None of the girls at Hogwarts had ever really kept my interest for long, and I had only dated a handful; they'd always lasted for relatively short periods of time. The vast majority of girls were either incredibly boring or far too wrapped up in themselves to be decent conversationalists.

Although we didn't gain our reputation through my meager dating experience. It was Fred that always snuck off to broom closets. Probably doesn't help that we're identical.

"Fortuna Major" I stated once we reached the portrait of the fat lady. She swung forward, revealing the warm reds and golds of the circular common room.

As I lay in my bed half an hour later, I wondered what the new kids were going to be like.

Would Leah (or was it Lisa? Linda?) Whatever, be some stupid bint?

Would Ross (is that right?) be as annoying as ever living hell?

Would Max be one of those people that was just too nice for their own good?

And would Ivy be someone I wasn't likely to forget?

I wonder…

* * *

-_Ivy_-

This has to be one of the most uncomfortable train rides I have ever been on in my entire life. _Ever_.

Honestly, it's ridiculous how awkward this entire thing is.

When I boarded this painfully red train, I ended up sitting with the other three exchange students. I didn't want to be _that_ girl, you know, the one that doesn't socialize with anyone and reads by herself in a corner.

And now that I'm sitting here with a group of people that couldn't be more different, I seriously wish that I had.

We engaged in small talk for the first 20 minutes, before the boy sitting beside me, Max, dropped to sleep right on my shoulder. And he's snoring. And drooling.

Joy.

The girl, Lenore, looked nice enough at first; then she opened her mouth.

Every time I said something, she always managed to steer the conversation back to herself.

"So what school are you coming from?"

"Royden, it's so great there! Did you know that Witch Weekly ranked it within the top 10 of all magical boarding schools? My entire family's gone there. It's in California, the weather there is so different from here. "

"I'm from Clarke –"

"Oh, my cousin goes to Clarke! Do you know her? Her name's Jessica Hedley. Actually you probably don't, she's in her first year."

"I do know a Jessica Hedley –"

"You do! Oh she's just a sweetheart, isn't she? She always said I was her favorite cousin."

It continued like this for an hour. An _hour_.

Gods, just kill me.

Then there was Ross. He was charming. He was smooth, suave, polite…

He was infuriating to be completely honest. Every word that slid out of his mouth was cheap flattery and manipulative. Although it seemed to work on Lenore. The two were deep in conversation about some petty subject, so I was content to look out the window at the passing countryside; well, as best as I could. Max's head was still resting heavily on my shoulder.

I noticed that the sun had begun its rapid descent; the sky turned pink and was streaked with fabulous shades of light purple and orange.

I placed my finger on Max's temple and shoved him off of me, not all so gracefully, and stood up to stretch. The two others stared up at me in confusion as I pulled out a set of plain black robes and threw them on.

"What are you doing?" asked Lenore.

"I'm putting on my robes," – honestly, what does it look like I'm doing – "we'll be at Hogwarts soon."

"Alright," Lenore stood up and pulled on her robes as well, followed by Ross, who hadn't said a word to me since he'd realized that his 'charms' didn't work on me.

I turned to look at Max, who had yet to wake up, and prodded his ankle with my toe.

He blinked blearily up at me, "Wha?"

"You should put on your robes. We'll be at the school soon."

He nodded and put them on before leaning back against the seat with his eyes shut.

Really?

With a sigh, I sat down as well and rested my head against the cool glass of the window.

I missed my parents. They'd been so happy when they heard that I'd been selected to go to Hogwarts for the year. I had heard about it all my life, through stories from my mom, and from my friends as well. It was always a secret wish of mine to attend the sprawling school, although I had always thought that it would never be a reality. Europe had its own schools, and so did America.

My sister, Annie, had been out of school for two years now, and loved her job at the American Ministry. All of my family works there, my mother as a secretary to the American Minister, my father as an Obliviator, and Annie as an assistant at the Board of Magical Education. Yes, we have one of those. You can imagine my surprise when I found out that Britain didn't.

Living in New York definitely had its perks. The Ministry's located there, so it wasn't as magically draining for my family to apparate there as it was for someone living on the West Coast. Floo powder is a huge deal in the U.S.

I also missed Maggie. She's been my best friend since we were four, and we've been at Clarke together since we were eleven. We're practically sisters, but we look nothing alike. She's athletic and tall and blond. I'm tiny. Oh, so tiny.

I cry myself to sleep over the fact that I'll probably never be taller than 5'2.

And I'm a brunette too. I always thought that was so boring. Many times, I've contemplated dying it an interesting color, but whenever I've voiced this desire to Maggie, she talks me out of it. Actually, when I'd gotten it cut a few years ago, she threatened me and told me never to do it again, before taking me straight to my mother and demanding that she charm it back to its regular long length.

I think she has an unhealthy obsession with my hair.

It's probably because hers is ramrod straight. Mine just gets curly and frizzy. She yells at me every time I lament my fly-away hair and how it seemed to ignore my desire for perfect ringlets. All I ever got were messy waves and loose curls.

I heard the train squeal to a stop, and the four of us trooped out of the compartment and into the blustery October air.

We were greeted by a severe looking woman with gray streaked hair pulled into a tight bun and emerald robes that swirled around her.

"Cannon, Hedley, Miller, and Terrell?" she asked.

We all nodded at the older witch.

"I am Professor McGonagall. If you will all follow me please."

She led us to a horseless carriage, and we all climbed in. Without warning, it moved on its own, up the steep mountain towards the most striking castle I have ever seen. The picture of Hogwarts in books absolutely did _not _do it justice.

Max and I were the only ones that openly gaped at the glittering lights that were present from what appeared to be windows.

The carriage stopped in front of a manicured courtyard, and we stepped out and made their way to the large double doors. Something bubbled unpleasantly in my stomach. I felt my heart pound erratically in my chest and I twisted my fingers together. A nervous habit I picked up from my sister.

We were lead into an impressive Entrance Hall.

"I will tell them of your arrival. Wait here. I'll be right back." She stepped into the Great Hall and a roar of noise filtered out.

The group stood around awkwardly awaiting the return of the stern woman. Oh shit, we're about to get sorted!

I had heard about the four houses of Hogwarts, but I had no idea where I'd be placed.

Well, it probably wouldn't be Slytherin.

I mean, have you met me? I wouldn't last a day with those people. I began to pace a bit. The other three seemed content to just watch my progress back and forth across the waiting room.

"They're ready for you."

I very nearly jumped out of my skin. With a startled shriek, my foot suddenly caught itself on the uneven bit of stone I had been successfully avoiding during my pacing.

I laid a hand on my chest and caught my breath best I could. McGonagall and the rest of the exchange students just stood there. Lenore and Ross with looks of contempt on their faces, and McGonagall and Max with mild amusement.

Well, then.

I let out a shaky laugh and hoisted myself up off the ground.

"Sorry about that, I startle easy sometimes."

McGonagall offered me a small smile and turned away from us to throw open the doors dramatically.

The sea of faces that stared at us was unnerving. Lenore drank up all the attention of course. She tossed her silky, sandy blonde hair and waved her tanned hand in a way she must've thought was endearing – which it wasn't.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and followed Max up to the front of the room. McGonagall was waiting there with a small piece of parchment and one of the dirtiest hats I have ever seen in my entire life.

Do they expect me to that on? I grimaced, then became aware of the height difference between me and my fellow exchange students.

Great. Even that bitch Lenore is taller than I am.

Why do good things happen to terrible people?

In all my grumbling, I managed to miss when McGonagall had called Ross forward and asked him to put on the hat. I came to just as the brim ripped wide open like a mouth and called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

So that's how it worked.

"Hedley, Lenore,"

She sauntered up to the stool and sat down primly. Her piercing blue eyes roved the hall and caught someone that she proceeded to wink at.

I once again struggled to not roll my eyes. I had a feeling I would be doing a lot of that with her around.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Wait, what? Lenore did not strike me as intelligent. At all.

It was probably all an act, now that I thought about it.

"Miller, Ivy."

Oh god, here we go.

Just put one foot in front of the other and sit down. It's not that hard.

I took a deep breath and sat down on the battered and dirty stool as McGonagall lowered the equally as dirty and battered hat onto my head.

"_Ah, I see, I see. I can tell that you'd do great in three of the houses. But which one? You've got plenty brains, no doubt. Maybe Ravenclaw? But there's loyalty and a good appreciation for justice too, perhaps Hufflepuff will better suit you."_

Is this hat reading my mind?

"_Yes, I am. It is the only way to ensure that a student is properly sorted."_

That is awesome.

"_Where was I? Ah, yes, wit, brains, loyalty, justice… there is one trait that overshadows them all. Yes, it's obvious now that you belong in _GRYFFINDOR!"

That's that, then.

I guess I'm a Gryffindor.

I approached the table that was cheering the loudest and dressed in red and gold, and searched for a good spot to sit.

My eyes swept the length of it, seeing an empty little stretch of bench in between a girl with curly, strawberry blond hair, and a good looking boy with broad shoulders.

Taking a seat, I offered a smile to the people sitting around me and turned to watch while 'Max the Drooler' got sorted into 'HUFFLEPUFF!' and a strangely dressed old man with a long white beard, who looked like he had stepped straight out of a storybook, move to stand in front of an ornate podium.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said warmly, "I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and I hope you four will enjoy your stay with us. We are all so glad that we have the opportunity to host you. So before I let you all starve, I have two fine words to share with you: Tuck in."

I chuckled at these words. Never before has a phrase made me so excited. I glanced at the table with glee and then with apprehension.

What is all of this stuff? The red-headed boy sitting across from me grinned wickedly.

"Need some help there?" he asked with amusement. I looked up at him and smiled. Finally, a person to explain the weird food.

"Yeah, that would be great."

He blinked and stared at her for a moment.

"Need some help there?" I asked him with a smirk. He laughed and shook his head.

"Sorry, your accent startled me for a moment. I forgot that you lot came from across the pond."

"Oh, I guess that would have surprised me too."

"I'm George," he said, "and this is Fred."

The boy sitting next to him looked up from his large plate that was laden with food and winked at me.

Twins.

Lovely.

"I'm Ivy."

"So Ivy, what do you need?" he asked.

"Could you tell me what all this is? I don't recognize any of this food." I said in exasperation.

George grinned at me and nodded. He pointed out the different dishes and explained their content, and I finally felt comfortable enough to try some things. The girl I sat next to turned to me with a squeal, having just realized who I was, and introduced herself.

"I'm Lavender, it's great to meet you." she said with a wide smile, "I have to ask you though, what kind of mascara do you use? I feel like I've tried every brand on earth, but they never turn out as long as yours are."

I shifted somewhat uncomfortably.

"I'm not wearing any,"

Lavender laughed loudly, drawing the attention of others down the table. "Oh Ivy, that was a funny joke,"

"I'm not… I'm not joking."

I felt my face slip into a sheepish expression and Lavender brought her face close to mine as she examined my eyelashes.

"Merlin, it's true! Parvati, come look!" an Indian girl with her hair in a long, dark plait, got up from her seat on the other side of Lavender and leaned into my face as well.

I couldn't help but feel like a bug under a microscope.

"She's not wearing any mascara!" Lavender and Parvati began conversing in hushed tones.

"Okay…" I slowly faced forward and ate a few bites of my food, avoiding Lavender's eyes. Movement on the other side of the table drew my attention momentarily.

George was speaking to a boy with dreadlocks excitedly, and ran his hand through his vivid orange hair.

He was attractive. I'll give him and his twin that.

I caught a snippet of their conversation after a moment.

"…and Wood says to me, he says, 'you've got the bat turned the wrong way Weasley!' So the bloke grabs a hold of my bat and yanks it away from me so fast that he hit himself with it!"

The broad shouldered boy next to me made a noise of indignation, which I probably would have understood had I heard the entire story, but I had more important questions to ask.

"You play Quidditch?" I asked George.

The boy beside me, and Fred, exchanged glances and grins.

"Yeah, Fred and I are the Gryffindor beaters."

Beaters, oh Merlin.

"Do you play?" asked Fred.

I shook my head. "I wish. I fly fairly well, but I don't have enough hand-eye coordination to play. My best friend is a chaser on the starting team at Clarke, so I get plenty of Quidditch talk from her. I just wish it was a bigger deal over there. I hear Quidditch is huge here."

"It is," said George. "Just ask Wood,"

"Wood?"

"That would be me," said the boy I was sitting next to, "Nice to officially meet you, I'm Oliver Wood,"

"Captain and keeper of the Gryffindor team," said Fred

"Lives, eats, and breathes Quidditch," said George

"Appreciates a life that's free of narration," snapped Oliver. I felt sort of bad for him. Those two must do this a lot.

I laughed, and the rest of the meal was spent swapping stories about Quidditch. I'm not sure I've ever laughed that hard about anything. I'm also pretty sure that I snorted one or two times, though Fred and George never said a word about it if I did.

I might have also startled quite a few people by my excitement at the sight of desert…

Whoops…

I threw all of the food that looked like it might have had any form of chocolate in it onto my plate and shoveled large bites into my mouth quickly.

"Oh man, this is so good," I moaned a few minutes later around mouthfuls of cake.

Someone snorted nearby and I looked up to see George trying to stifle his laughter.

"Laugh all you want, George, this is still the best damn cake I've had in a while."

"Whatever you say, Miller."

I grinned at him and just continued to eat the slice of cake.

What can I say? A girl's gotta have her chocolate.

* * *

**A/N: Alright! So in regards to Interlude, I'm sorry if you were keeping up with it and stuff. There was a lot about it that bothered me, and I'm glad I decided to do a rewrite. **

**Please tell me what you think!**


	2. Forward Tales To Tide

**A/N: No, I don't own Harry Potter. Sadly.**

**Oh well.**

* * *

Chapter 2: _Forward Tales to Tide_

_-Ivy_-

The Gryffindor common room was not at all what I expected.

It was like an explosion of red and gold had gone off inside. The chairs were red and gold. The chandeliers were red and gold. The banners that were strung up all around were red and gold. Even the walls were red and gold.

So much red and gold.

It should have been garish, but instead projected warmth and was inexplicably homey.

I loved it!

After being led up to the fifth year dorm by a girl named Maisie Young, who was apparently the fifth year prefect, I was immediately introduced to the rest of the girls in my room.

I was tackled from behind in a tight hug, and high pitched squealing filled my ear.

"Hello! I'm so excited that you're in our dorm! You're bed's right next to mine. I'm Ingrid by the way, Ingrid Twigg." She brushed her dark auburn bangs out of her eyes and stuck out her hand.

I shook it and chuckled. "Ivy Miller," I said. Ingrid smiled and sat down on what I assumed to be her bed.

Maisie reclined on the bed furthest from the one I had been directed to, and pulled out a sketch pad that she doodled on. Her quill flew across the thick vellum paper, with a strange precision and speed.

An extremely pale girl with long, dark hair in a ponytail strolled through the door and nearly dropped the bag of toiletries in her hands in surprise, "Oh! Hello! I didn't know you'd gotten in here yet. I'm Alicia Spinnet,"

She moved to her bed and began to get ready for the next day.

A very pretty dark skinned girl perched Indian style on the bed next to mine, and a worn quaffle sat in her lap.

"And I'm Angelina Johnson,"

I grinned at all of them and flopped back on my bed with a sigh.

"You all seem like gems," I said.

Angelina giggled and unfolded herself from the complicated pretzel in which she'd been sitting, before leaping off of her bed and landing next to me on mine.

"You make it sound like there aren't that many 'gems' here,"

"Well, you'd think that too if you'd actually tried to hold a conversation with any of the other exchange kids," I said with an eye roll.

"Oh that's right! You probably had to ride with them on the train here! Why? Did something happen?" asked Ingrid as she rolled onto her stomach and lay across her bed with her head propped in her hands. Alicia and Maisie left their respective bed areas and shared Angelina's to listen to my tale.

"Well, I'm not sure about that Max guy, I barely said anything to him before he fell asleep right on my shoulder," I said with a grimace.

Alicia wrinkled her nose, "I take it that wasn't a pleasant experience?"

"That was _not_ a pleasant experience. I still don't think I managed to banish all of the drool off my shirt."

Ingrid winced and muttered what sounded like 'ew.'

"Yeah, tell me about it. The other two, don't even get me started on them…"

I dove into the tale of Lenore and Ross, and Angelina passed around Chocolate Frogs – a woman after my own heart – before also sharing stories of similarly horrible people she had met.

"So, Ivy, does a cute boy back home await your owl?"

I nearly snorted at Ingrid's question.

"No. No one really ever showed much interest in me back at Clarke. I think the image of awkward little eleven year old Ivy wasn't ever erased from any one's minds."

"You're joking!" cried Angelina. I shook my head bemusedly.

"Ivy, that has to be the biggest bullshit I have ever heard. You mean to tell me that no one ever wanted to 'hit that'?!" Ingrid nearly shrieked.

"What?"

"You heard me, now explain!"

I spluttered and Angelina sighed.

"Ivy, believe me, people probably did."

I blushed and avoided their eyes. In all honesty, I truly _was_ very awkward growing up, what with and the occasional spout of accidental magic, unfortunate hair styles, unflattering glasses, and terribly crooked teeth…

In other words: No one wanted to "hit that" (at least, I seriously hoped they didn't, I was eleven for fuck's sake).

Sure, puberty struck and _wham,_ I blossomed; shedding my glasses, growing out my hair and gaining curves where flat planes used to be.

And thank Merlin my teeth were fixed with a quick spell from the dental specialists at the wizarding hospital in New York; if it weren't for them, I would probably still look like a deformed beaver…

I shudder. I used to be terribly jealous of Maggie. She had always been pretty; I wasn't as lucky.

I got off the bed and dug through my trunk, finding what I was looking for and striding purposefully back to where all of the other girls watched my progress with confused expressions.

"Here," I thrust the picture into Angelina's hands and watched as she raised her eyebrows, "still don't believe me?"

"This is you?"

"Yup,"

"Circe, you've changed…"

"Let me see!" cried Ingrid. She took the photo from Angelina and her jaw dropped, "Wow," her eyes went from me to the photo and back, "you got hot, Ivy."

She passed the photo to Alicia and Maisie, who then passed it back to me after they examined it too.

"All right, so we can see what you meant, but that doesn't mean you won't luck out here! Don't think I didn't see you chatting up the Weasley twins and Oliver Wood!"

"We were talking about Quidditch; that's hardly cause for jumping to conclusions like that."

"Ooh, what if you bagged both of the twins?! That would be so cool," said Ingrid.

"No, it wouldn't! That would just be gross. And wrong"

"Yeah, Ingrid, I have to agree with Ivy. That's a little weird." said Alicia.

"Alicia! You can tell us what it's like to snog one of them… er, which one was it again?"

"It was Fred, and no, I will not be sharing that information." she said.

"What's a snog?" I asked them.

They all stared at me incredulously.

"Morgana's lucky hat, Ivy, I know you're horrendously inexperienced, but not so much as to not know what _snogging_ is!" cried Ingrid.

"Snogging, you know, like passionate kissing?" said Alicia with pink lighting her cheeks.

"Oh… Wait, what the hell? Ingrid! I'm not that inexperienced! I'll have you know that I have 'snogged' someone before!" I threw my pillow at her and she giggled when it collided with her head. "And it's called making out in America."

"So who did you 'make out' with?" asked Angelina.

"Well, I was at a party over the summer, and everyone decided they wanted to play spin-the-bottle, and I got roped into a game. I ended up having to make out with one of my closest guy friends…" I winced at the memory. It was almost as awkward as my childhood, and Patrick hadn't been able to look me in the eye for a week after it happened.

"I've always wanted to play spin-the-bottle! That sounds like such fun, are you friends with a lot of muggles or something?" asked Ingrid

"Or something," I said, "in America, blood status is pretty much non-existent. We of course learn all about it in our History of Magic classes, it used to be a huge deal in the states; the Civil Rights movement in the 60s wasn't only a rise in the fight for equality among the muggles, but also in the wizarding population. The 'younger generation' of the magical community are really into muggle culture now. We all read muggle literature and magazines and go to the movies." I shrugged, and the girls all looked enthralled. "It's also considered cool to know more things about muggles than your friends."

"America sounds brilliant," said Maisie with a smile

"It's pretty great," I said, "but there's something about magical Britain."

"I know it's because I'm here, Ivy. You shouldn't feel ashamed about that," Angelina winked suggestively at me and I shoved her off the bed.

"No need to get violent," grumbled Angelina as she sat beside Ingrid.

"I have a question. What's your Quidditch team?" asked Alicia.

"I'm a fan of Montrose. I also support the Fitchburg Finches." My smile widened, "I have this friend who's a total Quidditch nut. She could probably tell you the name of every single Quidditch player in existence… At least, it feels that way."

"Reminds me of a certain seventh year that's the captain of the house team."

I laughed, "You mean Oliver? I have a feeling that he and Maggie _would_ get along swimmingly."

We stayed up talking for the longest time after that, until Maisie seemed to realize just how late it was.

"Oh Merlin's pants! It's nearly 3 in the morning!"

"Damn, we have class tomorrow."

"Yeah, I think it's time we go to bed…"

Needless to say, 4 hours of sleep is definitely _not_ going to help me make a good first impression on my teachers tomorrow.

* * *

-_George_-

What I said about not being easily surprised? Forget all of that. It's utter rubbish.

Bullshit.

Crap.

Poppycock.

Hogwash.

Nonsense.

Call it what you want, but the moment those exchange students walked through the doors, I knew that 'fact' was no longer true.

I think Fred just really wants to stick me with some bird. He's probably sick of my everlasting single status, because he nudged me not a moment into their entry and whispered, "That brunette is _fit_, don't you think?"

I flicked my eyes along the group and shrugged.

"How can you even see from here?"

"I can just tell, Georgie. I bet you a whole galleon that _you_ will find her exceptionally attractive."

"You're on,"

I don't think I really believed my brother, until she was sorted into Gryffindor and approached the empty spot across from me.

Fred realized what I was thinking, because he nudged me again and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'told you so,'

I'm going to have to agree with Fred. Ivy Miller is pretty.

I take that back, Ivy Miller is the most stunning girl I've ever seen.

I don't know what it is about her that made her stand out, but dear Merlin, when she smiled at me I think my heart probably leapt straight into my throat.

It sucks having a twin sometimes, because they always seem to know what you're thinking. Which is utterly infuriating.

After she starting talking to Lavender Brown, Fred held his hand out under the table and I grudgingly pressed a galleon into his palm.

"Thank you," he muttered with a smug smile.

I guess I was surprised even more when she chimed into the conversation we were having about Quidditch, and blinked those humongous brown eyes at me.

I mean, _huge_, brown eyes.

Brown isn't supposed to be a remarkable color at all. It's supposed to be flat and dull and dark. It's not supposed to catch in the candlelight and dance and sparkle and have so much soul.

My entire life has no meaning. All because of Ivy Miller and her ridiculous doe-eyes.

She looked so different from anyone I've ever met. No one's eyes looked like that. No one's hair curled like that. No one's smile brightened up the room like that. No one's laugh sounded like that.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

I can't fancy her. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yet…

What's so bad about that?

Fred would probably laugh his arse off if he ever heard me say any of this out loud.

_Would Ivy be someone I wasn't likely to forget?_

I glanced at her and saw that she was tearing through a slice of cake with so much enthusiasm, I thought she was going to crack her plate.

"Oh man, this is so good," She moaned. It came out slightly muffled due to the presence of cake in her mouth. I snorted and she looked around with an amused expression.

"Laugh all you want, George, this is still the best damn cake I've had in a while."

"Whatever you say, Miller." I grinned.

_She would be very hard to forget, indeed._

* * *

-_Ivy _-

The morning following my arrival at Hogwarts has to be one of the strangest I have ever experienced in my entire life. It started out typically; someone (Ingrid) was forced to unceremoniously dump me onto the freezing, stone floor in order to wake me, and so I grumbled under my breath as Ingrid screeched about being late for breakfast.

After being dragged out of the common room and through the twisting halls of the school, I saw something that was strange, to say the least.

A foot was sticking out from behind a tapestry near the great hall.

Was this a normal thing? Did Hogwarts just have random appendages floating around?

I recalled the facts from the only book I had read an unhealthy number of times. (Partly due to my appalling fascination with this damn, drafty school. My feet have never been so cold.) _Hogwarts, a History _was a fantastic read, although nowhere did it mention having to encounter hovering body parts.

Ingrid seamed to not have noticed it, so I told her to go ahead to breakfast – with the completely lame excuse of 'ladies room!'

Once her long mane of auburn hair had whipped around the corner and out of sight, I approached the offending foot, and prodded it not all too gently with my wand.

With a yelp, George (or was it Fred?), toppled out from behind the curtain and caught a hold of my wrist, effectively bringing me down with him.

I stared at him, and he stared at me with wide blue eyes.

God damn, if those weren't the bluest eyes I've ever seen in my life.

My mind immediately went to something Maggie once said – I use the term 'said' very loosely here, it was more like… squealing – about her favorite Quidditch player's eyes, I believe it was: 'the bluest blue to ever blue,'

Or something like that… It never made much sense until now.

It didn't register how weird it was to be able to see every single freckle on his face; especially that adorable little one right under his eyebrow.

A moment passed, and then I realized that I was on the floor.

And on top of someone.

With our faces mere inches away.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I leapt off of him and scrambled to my feet.

He stood and brushed off his robes sheepishly, "Er,"

"George? You get the prank –" his twin stepped into the hallway, and stopped dead when he caught sight of me.

"Oh hello, Ivy," he said with an evil-looking grin.

"Morning," I said as I felt my face heating.

Damn it. Wait, did he just say something about a prank?

"Were you about to say something about a prank?" I asked him with an excited smile on my face.

The two of them exchanged a glance and suspicious looks in their eyes.

"Oh, honestly. I'm not going to tell someone,"

Fred's lips twitched and he sighed, "Fine. Georgie and I were going to prank someone."

"Sounds like fun,"

Fred chuckled at me and nodded, "Yeah. Speaking of, George, did you get it set up?"

George blinked at him for a moment, before his face looked horrified.

"I did, and it's going to be going off any second!"

"Shite!" Fred looked around wildly, and then a loud crash was heard from somewhere in the castle.

A thundering came from the great hall that could only be the sound of students rushing to investigate the source of the loud noise.

A hand grabbed mine and pulled me after Fred, who was already sprinting down the corridor. George and I followed his twin, joining him in a crevice behind an astoundingly ugly statue that depicted a wizard named 'Flavius the Friendly'.

It didn't occur to me just how ridiculously tall they were, until I was squished into an increasingly small space between them. I barely came up to either of their shoulders.

Maybe they're not that tall. Maybe I'm just midget.

No, that's not it. I'm short, but not that short.

"Would either of you like to explain to me what it is exactly that you _did?_"

"Charmed a can of paint –"

"Or three –"

"Or fifteen –"

"To pour on Mrs. Norris and Filch when they passed by the painting of those smashed witches."

"And then fall to the floor?" I asked.

"Well…"

"You forgot to silence them, didn't you?"

"It may have slipped my mind." said George.

The three of us grew silent, and I opened my mouth to say something, when Fred's hand clamped over it. I was sorely tempted to lick, or bite it, but I realized why he had done it. The sound of shuffling footsteps and muttering approached our hiding spot.

"Those beasts… think it's funny to make my school a mess… I'll get them for this… Dumbledore… whips…"

What?

Fred's hand withdrew from my face and I glared at him.

"If you do that again, I will not hesitate to bite you."

He threw his hands up in surrender and grinned.

"You're alright, Miller," He left the nook and ran down the hall.

George chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry about that, didn't mean for you to get caught up in this."

"It's fine, really. I've had fun,"

"Good, er, did you ever get to breakfast?"

"No, why?"

"They had chocolate muffins and –"

"Damn it!"

"– I have one if you want it,"

I gasped and threw my arms around him. "You're the absolute greatest,"

He shook his head bemusedly and reached, maneuvering around my arms, into his bag to retrieve the pastry.

He handed it to me, and we began the walk to the first class that the fifth year Gryffindors had.

"Ugh, my god! Seriously," I said around mouthfuls of rich chocolate-y goodness, "I _might_ be in love with this muffin."

"I have no idea how to respond to that statement,"

"Will you be the best man at our wedding, Georgie?"

"I also have no idea how to respond to that question."

"It's too late. I ate him. Looks like I can't get married after all."

"Shame. You would have made a lovely bride,"

"Thank you, good sir! Is that the charms classroom?" I asked, catching sight of a cluster of students waiting outside a tall doorway. He nodded and I grinned up at him.

One body detached itself from the group and ran over to me.

"Ivy! Where did you go?" blubbered Ingrid, "You didn't get lost, did you? Oh, I knew I should've gone with you to the loo,"

"Ingrid, Ingrid, calm down! I'm fine, I promise. I just got a little side tracked…" I glanced at George, and he smirked.

"You didn't even get anything to eat! Oh, I knew I forgot something! When you didn't show up, I meant to bring you something but I left it at the table, damn it!"

"Ingrid it's fine, I promise!"

"You sure?"

"Absolutely," I assured her as we joined the queue waiting to get into the classroom.

"Come in class, come in!" squeaked a little man from the doorway.

We filed in, and everyone began sitting at their seats around the room.

"Miss Miller! I'm Professor Flitwick. Your seat is beside Mister Jordan,"

Flitwick pointed me to a seat beside the boy with dreadlocks. I slipped behind the table, and he turned and grinned at me devilishly.

"So Ivy, in America are there…"

I have a feeling that this is going to be an interesting class.


	3. Search for the Moon

**A/N: No, I don't own Harry Potter. **

* * *

Chapter 3: _Search for the Moon_

I_vy_

My first day at Hogwarts was surprisingly normal.

Charms was an interesting enough class. The professor at Clarke had been dreadfully boring; Flitwick was a breath of fresh air. I'd always been fairly good at charms, so the lesson wasn't too difficult to grasp, and by the end of the class I was among the few that had succeeded in causing my teacup to dance across the desk. Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures went well enough, both being classes I'm decent in; the former more so than the latter. You can say that Snape was pretty shocked when Fred Weasley and I were the only two able to produce viable Pepperup Potions in the entire class.

Actually, the entire class was shocked that Fred Weasley and I were the only ones able to brew Pepperup Potions.

Transfiguration is probably the only class I was absolutely psyched for. It always has been, and always will be, my absolute favorite subject. I've always loved the idea of taking one thing, and turning it into another. The endless possibilities continue to amaze me. By the end of the period, I had earned Gryffindor 20 points for being the first to transfigure my mouse into a shoe.

When Ingrid and I entered our final class, she grinned and pulled me up to a seat near the front of the room. A tired looking man with graying hair and shabby robes stood at the front and leaned against the front of his desk. He offered me a small smile and nodded his head in greeting, before turning back to scan the rest of the room. Once every seat had been filled, he made his way to the center of the room and dragged a heavy looking trunk along with him.

"Good afternoon, class," he said, with a grin, "I'd like to say welcome to two of our exchange students, Miss Miller, and Miss Hedley."

Lenore was in here? I hadn't seen her enter the room. I glanced around, and saw that she was seated beside a dark haired Ravenclaw girl near the back of the room.

"Last week, we began working on offensive jinxes and hexes. Today, I'd like to see everyone practice the stunning spell on these cushions," he flicked open the trunk and pulled out thick pillows, "please pair up and begin."

Ingrid and I claimed a small corner of the room to practice in peace. Each armed with a cushion, we took turns casting the spell. I was thanking the powers that be that we were to be working on a spell that I had mastered last year at Clarke. Stunning as well as other offensive spells had never really been my forte. It took me nearly a month to be really grasp the spell and properly cast it. I think my problem is that I'm afraid to hurt anyone, so the intent behind my offensive spells is generally weaker than it should be.

Damn me and my irrational fear of harming someone.

I'm actually pretty good at defensive spells. My old Defense teacher had commented on more than one occasion that he had never seen a shield charm as powerful as mine in a long time.

"STUPEFY!"

"Nice work Ingrid!" Lupin had stopped in front of us and was now watching our volleying.

"Ivy, what was the last concept you learned in your previous Defense class?"'

"Uh, we just finished up shield charms and disarming charms, I think I left right before we were going to begin the section on protective spells and defenses. I learned about half of the OWL level offensive spells last year, and we were going to finish up the year with the rest of them."

"Interesting approach… I think you'll be fine then. This next month or so will be good review for you. I've been planning to begin warding spells in mid-November."

I smiled, "Thank you for letting me know."

"STUPEFY!"

The cushion flew out of my hands and exploded from the force of the spell hitting it. Ingrid and I gaped at it, while Lupin laughed and conjured a waste bin.

"Ingrid that is one of the most flawlessly executed stunners I have ever seen. Great job," he said. "Alright, class dismissed!"

And so, the first day of education at the school I've been dying to attend since I was 5 has come to a close.

* * *

"_YOU FILTHY RAT!"_

"_I-I –"_

"_DON'T JUST STAND THERE AND ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW –"_

"_How could you betray Lily and James, Sirius?! They trusted you!"_

"_What are you on about? What are you doing, you piece of –"_

"Bombarda!"

The scent of wet grass filled my nostrils as I lay in my bed gasping for air. I sat up and wiped my cheeks hastily before cancelling the silencing charm I had placed last night before I went to sleep.

A shudder ran through me and I slipped out of my dormitory, past the open window, and into the common room to sit in front of the fire. I rubbed my arms and edged closer to it, trying to feel the full effects of its warmth.

"Ivy?"

I very nearly shrieked at the sound of my name. Someone settled down on the ground beside me, and I looked over at the Weasley that had come down from the dormitory. A glance at his eyebrows affirmed my suspicions and I blushed a little, remembering our little encounter yesterday.

"Why are you up?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question, George."

"Lee snores… wait, have you been crying?"

Damn it. I rubbed my cheeks, and felt that they were still sticky from tears.

"Are you alright?" George looked on at me in concern.

"Yeah, it was just…" I trailed off a little.

"Just what?"

"Don't laugh," I warned him with a sniff. He nodded, "I-I had a nightmare."

"Oh," I felt him lift his arm and hesitate, before putting it around me. I leaned into him and sniffed again.

"It was… terrible." I said with a shudder, "These two men, they were arguing about something. No, one man was shouting at the other, and then one of them went and blew up the street."

"That sounds like," he furrowed his eyebrow, "That sounds like what Sirius Black did."

"Yeah, one of them was called Sirius." I grimaced. He had looked like his entire world had ended. What I imagine had once been an extremely lively face, was now grief-stricken and in pain.

"So you had a dream about Sirius Black blowing up that street, and Peter Pettigrew?" asked George. He brushed some hair out of my eyes.

"Not exactly. The other man, Pettigrew I guess, was the one that blew up the street. He also cut off his finger and turned into a rat." I said with a frown.

George wrinkled his nose. "That doesn't sound right; I'm pretty sure it was Black."

I shrugged. "It was only a dream, right?" George grinned and squeezed my arm.

"Right." I sighed and lay my head on his shoulder. "Thanks, George."

"How did you know I'm George?" he asked with a grin, "No one ever gets it right,"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, isn't it?"

We sat in front of the fire for another hour, just sitting and talking about everything and nothing, until light the common room began to lighten and a glance at the clock nearby confirmed my suspicions.

"Oh hell, it's 4," I removed his arm from around me and jumped to my feet.

"Goodnight-morning!" I chirped.

"Night-morning?" he grinned.

I nodded seriously, "Night-morning. The period of time when it's morning, but feels like it's night."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back on his palms, "Goodnight-morning to you too, then, Ivy."

I snuck back into my bed and lay for a while, just absorbing what had happened. I rolled over onto my side and snuggled deeper into the fluffy blankets and plump pillow with a smile on my lips.

* * *

_Fred_

"George? George! Hello?" I waved my hand in front of George's face and snapped my fingers trying to attract his attention. He continued to stare at the wall with his face propped up in his hands. Lee and I exchanged glances and grins.

"Should I do it?" asked Lee, I shrugged, "I'm going to do it."

Lee drew his hand back and slapped his cheek.

"OW! Bloody hell! What was that for?"

"We've been calling your name for the past three minutes."

"Have you? Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"And why's that?" I asked curiously.

"Lee was snoring," he said. Lee made a noise of indignation and George glared at him.

"I went to the common room to see if I could sleep on one of the couches, and Ivy was down there." He said with a smile.

Oh, Georgie, you have it _bad_.

Lee grinned and began to wiggle his eyebrows, "Let me guess, you two didn't do much talking. Oh, Fred, I'm so proud of our little Georgie. He bagged the hot exchange student!"

George rolled his eyes and smacked Lee in the back of the head. "Get your head out of the gutter, you prat; we were just talking."

I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Whatever you say, Gred. We should head to Wood's meeting, yeah?"

"Yeah…"

Nearly three hours later, George and I were back in the common room and talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. I suggested to George that he ask Ivy to go with him. George suggested that I 'sod off'.

The arse.

A commotion near the fireplace drew my attention

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

I rolled my eyes at my younger brother and settled into a seat beside Ivy and Ingrid Twigg to watch the whole debacle go down.

George, being the noble git that he is, tried to help. I laughed at him when he missed the bloody cat and he sighed and came to sit with me.

"So, Ivy, are you going to Hogsmeade with anyone?" asked Ingrid as they scribbled away at essays for various classes.

"Actually, I am," I raised my eyebrows and leaned forward to listen to their conversation.

"Someone's already asked you?" I asked.

"Yes," said Ivy with a smile, "that's what I just said, Fred."

"Who is it?" Ingrid had abandoned her assignment and the quill lay discarded on top of her half-finished charms essay; leaving splotches of ink all over it.

"Um, Roger Davies?"

"WHAT?!" shrieked Ingrid. The tall girl grabbed Ivy's arm and dragged her through the common room and up the dormitory stairs, leaving me and George sitting at the small table.

I glanced at George, and saw that he had a strange expression on his face. Not jealousy or anger, but confusion.

"Alright there, Gred?"

"Hmm?" he asked after a moment.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then what is it?"

"… I think I fancy her,"

I very nearly smacked him over the back of the head. However, I restrained myself and clapped my hands together instead.

"Lovely. Now that you've finally admitted it, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to… I'll…" he trailed off, "I'll do nothing because she's going on a date with Davies."

Shit. Forgot about that.

* * *

_Ivy_

The next few weeks passed in a crazy blur full of classwork, and meeting new people. On Halloween morning, I was awoken in the usual way; Ingrid shoving me to the floor and screaming "GET UP!". This time, instead of being left to my own devices, Angelina and Ingrid proceeded to style my hair, do my make-up, and dress me up in what they deemed 'appropriate' attire for a date.

"No! Absolutely not," I protested when I saw the first ensemble they had forced me into.

"But why?" whined Ingrid.

"Well, for one, this top is _way_ too low cut. Two, this skirt is too short, and three, I hate these shoes, no offense Angie."

"None taken; I sort of hated them too."

"Then what are you going to wear, Ivy?"

I thought for a moment, before pulling off the skimpy clothing and burrowing through my drawers.

I changed quickly and turned to my friends for inspection.

Angelina glanced up and down my body and did a little twirling motion with her finger. I spun in a slow circle, and Angelina smiled.

"I like it." She said with a nod.

"It'll do…" sighed Ingrid dramatically.

"Shut up," I said with a shove.

"Well what are you waiting for? Roger's waiting for you in the entrance hall!" cried Angelina.

Roger was, in fact, waiting in the entrance hall.

I spent the next two hours in agonizing _boredom_. That was probably one of the most horrible dates I have ever been on (only date I have ever been on). He didn't even talk to me. We literally sat next to each other in complete silence in the most hideously pink shop, Madame Puddifoot's. I pity every girl that has ever had the misfortune of being brought there on a date.

Once I had returned, I flopped back on my bed and groaned. Angelina glanced up from the magazine she was flipping through with a small smile on her face.

"_So_," she drawled, "How was your date?" she asked.

"Completely terrible, absolutely horrendous, excruciatingly dull. Take your pick." I covered my face with my pillow and heard a faint giggle. Removing the pillow, I glared at her.

"It's not funny,"

"It's very funny."

We looked at each other unblinkingly for a moment, until her lips twitched and she snorted again. My pillow flew across the room and smacked her in the face.

"Oi! Why do you always feel the need to get so violent?" she complained.

Suddenly the door banged open and a lithe figure lunged onto my bed and tackled me.

"IVY!" screamed Ingrid, "How was Roger?"

I spent the rest of the time leading up to the Halloween feast assuring Ingrid that she wasn't missing anything when it came to Roger Davies.

I found myself seated in between the twins for the feast, and across from Angelina. The food was delicious; I ate about three helpings of fudge pie, resulting in a chuckle from George. I jabbed him in the side with my elbow with a grin flickering on my face.

Fred, George, and I had become fast friends after that night that George found me in the common room. Even after a mere three weeks of friendship, it felt as though we had known each other for years. It sounds a bit strange, I know, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

I was currently listening to Fred explain – in painful detail – his latest conquest.

" – then she – "

"Alright," I interrupted with a clap of my hands, "As lovely as that was, I think the feast is coming to a close…" thank god. I wasn't sure I could take another second of that conversation. As flattered as I was that Fred found himself comfortable enough around me to divulge that kind of information, I didn't particularly have the stomach for it after the heavy (and delicious) food.

We joined the crowd of students swarming around the portrait entrance to the common room. No one seemed to be going in, and I looked around for someone who'd be able to tell me what was happening.

"What's going on?" I asked Ingrid as she sidled up next to me with a frown that was not often seen on the happy girl.

"Dunno, I just got here,"

"Let me through, please," came Percy Weasley's voice, "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password – excuse me, I'm Head Boy –"

George and I exchanged a glance, and he rolled his eyes. We elbowed our way to the front and I gasped at what greeted me.

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. We heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

It barely registered that I was now clutching George's arm with wide eyes. I didn't notice the oddly tender look he gave me, nor did I notice the smirk that Fred was trying to suppress in light of the situation.

"Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Ten minutes later, Ingrid, Angelina, Alicia, and I were laying in a circle, encased in the squashy purple sleeping bags that Dumbledore provided to the entire student body. Maisie had joined some of her Hufflepuff friends across the room. The four of us were joined by George, Fred, and Lee a moment later, to discuss the sudden happenings.

"How, in the name of Merlin, did Sirius Black get into Hogwarts?" asked Angelina from her spot beside me.

All around us, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

"He could've flown in," suggested a third year, Dean something.

"The lights are going out now!" Fred and George's older brother Percy was storming around the great hall, obviously enjoying the privileges that went along with being Head Boy. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

I burrowed deeper into the purple fabric and stared at the ceiling. It had the night sky projected onto it. Surveying the twinkling stars and glowing moon gave me a small smile. I had always loved star gazing, and tonight was no exception.

"_Beautiful, isn't it_?" whispered a voice from beside me.

I glanced over at George and nodded. He winked at me before settling more comfortably into his sleeping bag; his eyes now trained on the enchanted ceiling.

"_Beautiful,_" he whispered again; more to himself than to me. I watched him for a moment, then turned my head back up to look at the moon.

* * *

**A/N: So, there's chapter 3! Chapter 4 will be posted as soon as possible.**

******Let me know what you think**!


	4. Take This Sinking Boat and Point It Home

**A/N: Still don't own Harry Potter. Still crying because I don't own Harry Potter. **

* * *

Chapter 4: _Take this Sinking Boat and Point it Home_

_Ivy_

I can't believe I've already been here for close to three months. The time really has flown by; I got here on October first. A flash of red on my right caught my attention, and I found myself face to face with a grinning George Weasley.

"I got something for you…" he said in a sing-song voice.

"What is it?" I sang back to him with a smile.

He pulled a Chocolate Frog out from behind his back, handed it to me without another word, then winked and jogged off toward Fred.

He knows me too well.

I shook my head and giggled, before tearing open the package and taking a bite of the chocolate. He was so cute sometimes…

Wait, what?

Did I just call George cute?

I stopped eating the Chocolate Frog and probably looked incredibly stupid with the thing sticking out of my mouth, but I had more pressing things to think about right now.

I guess George isn't _just_ George anymore.

We're friends though. Maybe even best friends. There's no way he thinks of me as more than a friend.

He's the person whose shoulder I cry on. He's the person I tell everything to. We spend nearly every night with each other, doing nothing and everything. If he wasn't already in the common room, I would sneak up his dorm to shake him awake (he had sort of insisted on it after finding me alone again, only two nights after the first incident.).

I feel like I can tell him anything and everything. He was the kind of guy that was just as content sitting and saying nothing, as having an extremely deep, and soulful conversation.

He knew how to comfort me in ways that were previously known to only Maggie. He knew just how to make me laugh, how to cheer me up, how to calm me down, how to… how to make me aware of everything.

It didn't help that he had to go and be so god damn attractive. The red hair, the blue eyes, the straight nose... agh, kill me now.

But those lips, Merlin those lips. I want to kiss him right now. I want to march across the common room and plant a big one righ- no, no I can't do that.

Liking someone has to be so damn complicated.

I'd only had a handful of dreams since that first night, the highlights of those included one of Sirius Black riding into the sunset on a hippogriff, and another where Snape was thrown into a wall.

And then there had been the one with Hagrid and the baby dragon he kept calling Norbert…

My dreams never make sense.

It was about mid-December, and the Christmas holiday was fast approaching. The end-of-term trip to Hogsmeade was all anybody could talk about, and I was determined to make the most of it, so when Ingrid had suggested that we spend the day together, I jumped at the chance.

When I came with Roger, I really only saw the inside of one store; Madame Puddifoot's. This time, I made sure to go into every single shop I laid eyes on, no matter how much Ingrid complained.

"Ivy, you don't even play Quidditch!"

"What do you need to go into Zonko's for?"

"You have a bloody owl! There's no point in going to the post office!"

I ignored her whining.

After about twenty minutes of me entering stores that Ingrid thought were pointless, she grasped my elbow and pulled me into one of the most glorious places I have ever been.

Honeydukes smelled like heaven; its high shelves stocked with row after row of chocolates, and other confections. There was every type of candy imaginable, and little pastries, and bottles of chilled pumpkin juice and butterbeer. A teetering display of chocolate frogs, that could only have stayed upright under the influence of magic, swayed dangerously from side to side. Round, pastel colored candies filled one barrel, while Every Flavor Beans filled another. Packages of Ice Mice, and Jelly Slugs, and Pepper Imps, and Sugar Quills, and Peppermint Toads were scattered all throughout the store. Hogwarts students filtered in and out of the packed shop, their arms laden with treats.

Ingrid must have seen my awe struck face, because she snickered and ran off to grab a few boxes of Sugar Quills, leaving me to my own devices.

I wandered around, grabbing a box of whatever candy caught my eye – the majority of it being chocolate – when a simpering voice grabbed my attention.

"Oh, Roger! You really didn't have to buy me anything!" I peered around the corner and nearly gagged at the sight.

Lenore was clutching Roger Davie's arm so tightly that it looked painful, while he cradled a few boxes of heart shaped candies.

I rolled my eyes, when someone prodded my arm. I glanced behind me and saw George watching me with an amused face.

"What're you doing there, Ivy"

"Shh," I motioned him closer and gestured to the couple around the corner. He looked at them and wrinkled his nose; his contempt for the two blatantly obvious. I told him all about the disastrous date with Roger, and my dislike for Lenore during one of our late night discussions.

I snorted and made my way to the cashier, with George following me close behind. Piling the numerous boxes of chocolate onto the counter, I turned and scanned the store for Ingrid; spotting her nearby a Blowing Gum display.

After being handed my numerous bags, made my way over to Ingrid, and grinned at her.

"I'm done in here!" I said, Ingrid nodded and glanced down at her watch.

"One hour and thirty-three minutes." She said with a giggle.

"You were only in here for an hour and a half? Impressive. I would've guessed at least three." teased George.

I blushed and rolled my eyes.

"Well, I came in here to find you… er, are you two coming to the Three Broomsticks to meet up with the rest of us?

"Sure, George." I said.

"O-okay… I'll see you, er, later." He backed away and nearly knocked over the barrel of Fizzing Whizzbees. He caught it before it could do serious damage to the store, then left with his face burning bright red.

Ingrid turned to me with a wide smile and gripped my arm, "He fancies you!" she squealed.

"He does not," I protested as a flush began to creep up my neck. Ingrid suddenly gasped and pointed an accusing finger at me.

"You fancy him, don't you!" my silence seemed to affirm her suspicions, and she pouted. "How could you not tell me? We're best friends!"

I shrugged helplessly, and Ingrid pouted for another second, before she spun around to face me and pulling me out of the shop.

"Come on! You don't want to be late for your beau."

"What? Ingrid, he is not my beau!"

"Not yet…" said Ingrid suggestively.

"Ingrid!"

She dragged me across the street to a warm looking pub that was packed with students looking to escape the blizzard-like conditions outside.

"This," said Ingrid as she pushed open the door, "is the Three Broomsticks."

"It's very, um, homey?"

Ingrid huffed and pushed me toward a table that housed the twins, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia.

"Hello!" cried Ingrid. She shoved me into a seat across from Fred and winked obnoxiously. I rolled my eyes and turned to him.

Was I really the only one that could tell them apart?

* * *

_Ingrid_

No matter how many times I've told her, Ivy continues to deny the fact that George has a thing for her.

Which is completely barmy, right?

And so I, Ingrid Twigg, have decided to take control of the situation. It is now my priority to figure out how to get them together.

Why not have fun with this? My father used to read me stories about spies and secret agents and missions. I always wanted to live the life as an agent with codenames and shit.

So, step one in _Operation… _huh.

Step one is to come up with a good Operation name.

Maybe I'll give it a symbolic name. Like… Honeyduke; that's where this smart plan of mine started. No! Fizzing Whizzbee; in honor of the barrel that George almost knocked over yesterday. Operation Fizzing Whizzbee. It's perfect.

Step two is to recruit some fellow agents. Angelina was all for it, said she was "tired of watching those two make moon-eyes at each other," and Alicia agreed to be the official lookout; thus Pepper Imp and Sugar Quill were born.

Lee also decided that he wanted to be a part of the whole thing when he overheard me talking about it to Alicia, so he christened himself with the name Exploding Bon-Bon, and told me he was going to be the official 'Gatherer of Snacks for secret mission meetings'.

There was one other person that I wanted to include in my scheming. My only problem was figuring out a way to get the twins apart as well as ensure that the one I did corner _was _in fact Fred, not George.

Hmm… Oh! Idea!

I cleared my throat, "Er, George?" the twins looked up at me, "Ivy's looking for you."

The one on the right leapt up from the couch and left the common room in a hurry. My lips twitched when he ran back in, "Where is she?"

"In the library," I said. He nodded and walked out. Fred chuckled.

"Now that he's gone, I have a proposition for you…" I began.

Acid Pop was added to the team a short while later. Oh, Fred fought me on that code name, but I won.

Step Three was commenced the last day before term ended.

_Phase 1: The Kiss_, begins.

"Chocolate Frog is approaching Jelly Slug, I repeat, Chocolate Frog is approaching Jelly Slug." I hissed to Acid Pop. "Do you have the Mistletoe?" he held out a sprig of the plant and I grinned evilly at it.

"Is it charmed?"

"Of course," said Acid Pop.

Sugar Quill (Alicia) looked confused for a moment, "Why did Ivy and George –"

"Chocolate Frog and Jelly Slug!" I interrupted.

"Fine, why did _Chocolate Frog and Jelly Slug _need code names?"

"That's just how it works, Sugar Quill!"

Pepper Imp squinted at me and frowned, "But Ing-"

"Cauldron Cake,"

"But Cauldron Cake," began Pepper Imp, "all these code names are ridiculously wordy,"

"What are you lot up to?" asked George. He and Ivy had appeared right behind our group during our whispered argument. I glared at Sugar Quill. She was supposed to be the lookout.

Why did no one understand how Secret Missions worked?

"What code names?" asked Ivy.

Shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit shit, shit. She's figured us out. I opened my mouth to attempt some half assed excuse, when Fred saved my sorry arse.

"We were just talking about the Appleby match from yesterday. Alicia said she didn't want to know what happened, so we were trying to use different names for the players."

"Oh, Okay. Good night everyone!" said Ivy brightly, before making her way to the dormitory.

I guess _Phase 1_ will have to commence after the holiday.

* * *

_Ivy_

I spent my Christmas break at Hogwarts along with a few other kids. The rest of the Gryffindor fifth years and the other exchange students decided to go home for the holidays. I would have as well, but my parents wanted to go on some couples cruise to Florida. The only others that stayed in Gryffindor tower were Fred and George's younger brother, a girl with impossibly bushy hair, and Harry Potter.

I kept mostly to myself for the first two days, spending most of it in the Owlery; sending lengthy letters to my parents and Maggie, and Christmas presents to my new friends.

Christmas day brought with it the usual gifts of candy, although my parents did send me a new set of robes, and Maggie got me a book full of useful (as well as useless) charms; including one that made your eyebrows flash different colors, and another that caused your ears to wiggle.

Maybe I'll hex Lenore.

I was seated in between the bushy-haired third year and Professor McGonagall at lunch. It was a weird sensation, sitting with all the teachers for a meal, but it didn't last when I caught a glimpse of the gleaming chocolate cake situated right in the center of the table. I almost felt bad for the small first year that left the table early, complaining of a stomachache. _Almost_. (Serves the kid right though. Eating your way through three platters of sausage is a bad idea, and I have no idea what compelled him to do it.)

I made polite conversation with the third year (Hermione, I later learned) about the coursework in America. She was apparently muggleborn, because she had very loudly approved the English and 'History of Muggles' classes that were mandatory. She also seemed quite excited that we had had to take mathematics up to Algebra I in order to enroll in Arithmancy.

I liked her immediately and immensely.

Professor McGonagall is like no one I have ever met before. I liked her when I met her at the train station, and I liked her on the first day of class. Not many teachers have stayed as constant as she. She was to the point. Very no-nonsense. I have a lot of respect for her; the fact that she taught my favorite class probably only adds fuel to that fire.

Not long into the meal, a misty-looking woman I had seldom seen wandering around the school, came drifting into the great hall.

Professor Trelawney taught divination, as it turned out, and she looked like a great big fraud to me. The English teacher at Clarke was a Seer, she often wrote small predictions in the margins of our essays, and she acted nothing like Trelawney. My old headmaster had been very adamant that a divination course not be added to the curriculum. He had called it 'completely useless,' and it is.

Unless you're actually a Seer, and if I'm correct, you only have a one in a million chance of that happening. I think there's only ever about three or four per generation, worldwide.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in a faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."

Complete bullshit.

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. I've never met a man with eyes as twinkly as his, "Let me draw you up a chair – "

He conjured a chair from midair with his wand, a feat which had me mystified. That was _really_ advanced transfiguration. McGonagall seemed to sense my dewy-eyedness, for she gave me an unexpected wink and turned back to Dumbledore.

Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her bug-eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a weirdly soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney frowned, then gingerly lowered herself into the 'awesome chair', eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting an elephant to fall out of the sky and hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest dish.

"Tripe, Sibyll?"

Professor McGonagall is officially my favorite person.

The rest of the meal passed in relative normality. That is, until Harry and Ron got up at the exact same time. Trelawney went absolutely bat-shit crazy, and after the duo finally left the hall, I excused myself and followed them up to the Gryffindor common room with the new transfiguration book I got from my parents on my mind.

Sometime during my mad dash to the dormitory and back to the common room, Harry had retrieved one of his gifts and was now sitting and admiring it with wide eyes. The second I caught sight of the thing, my book fell to the ground with a muffled thump.

"My god…" I whispered as I inched closer to the two of them, "is that a –"

"Firebolt? Yeah." said Ron with a grin.

"Can I touch it?" I asked.

"Go for it," chuckled Harry. I ran my hand along the polished handle in wonder.

"These babies haven't even come out in the States," I drew my hand back and admired the broom. "Who's it from?"

"Dunno. There wasn't a note." That was odd. I pursed my lips, then shrugged.

"Well it's freaking awesome, regardless. I couldn't bring my old Nimbus 980 –"

"You fly?" interrupted Ron.

"Yeah. I don't play Quidditch though."

We sat in silence for a moment, when the portrait hole swung open and Hermione and McGonagall entered. I had a feeling that it wasn't a good thing that the latter was there, so I backed away from the two of them and sat back down on the armchair I had been previously occupying, picking up my discarded book in the process. Hermione followed in my footsteps and sat at a sofa nearby, preferring to hide her face in the random book she had grabbed off the coffee table. That wasn't a good sign. I turned my attention back to the Professor and Harry.

"- I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down -"

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron in disbelief.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry shakily. Poor kid. "Honestly, Professor –"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, with a tin of broom polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought – and Professor McGonagall agrees with me – that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

Well, shit.

* * *

"Reducto,"

A chip crumbled away from the brick I was supposed to be blasting. I groaned and narrowed my eyes at it.

"Reducto?" Still nothing.

"REducTO!" Not even dust.

"reDUCto!" Why do I bother?

Beside me, Ingrid was hard at work, blasting through her tenth brick for the period.

"REDUCTO!" the thing splintered and turned powdery. Professor Lupin walked by with a wide smile on his tired face.

"Nice work, Ingrid," he turned to me and cocked his head.

"Still on your first one?" I huffed and nodded. "From what I hear, Ivy, you're pretty handy with a wand. You're the top of your class in Transfiguration, right?"

Ingrid chimed in for me, "Oh yes! She's bloody brilliant in that class. Vanished her kitten like it was nothing."

"And remember Snape's face when she brewed a perfect batch of Pepperup potion?" piped Fred from behind me.

"Or that time in Charms when she silenced that frog within a matter of seconds?" added George.

I blushed from all of the compliments, ducking my head. "See, Ivy? If you could do all of that, there's no reason you shouldn't be able to perform this jinx." Lupin smiled at me encouragingly, and I nodded.

I looked back at my brick and glared at it. Maybe it would help if I imagined someone that I dislike…

Picturing my brick as Lenore, with her make-up laden face sneering at me, I pointed my wand at the thing.

"REDUCTO!"

It blasted away into nothing, leaving a small pile of red powder as the only evidence that it had ever been there.

Lupin beamed at me, and Ingrid squealed. Fred and George clapped their hands and hooted appreciatively.

"There it is! Good job," he said. He glanced at the clock, and returned to the front of the room.

"Alright everyone, you've all been working hard, and I have a feeling that you're all starving." The class all nodded in agreement, and Lupin smiled, "well then I won't keep you from lunch, class dismissed!"

The chairs all scraped against the stone floor as all the students filed out of the classroom. I waved Ingrid off to lunch, promising to meet up with her before we had Charms. I approached Lupin with a small smile and stopped in front of the desk where he was gathering papers.

"Yes, Ivy?"

I took a deep breath, "Sir, I completely understand if you don't have time for this, but I was hoping you could help me a little more with some of the offensive spells we learned this year?"

"Oh, you mean additional lessons?"

I nodded and blushed a little. "If you can't, it's alright. I'm sure Ingrid would help me, it's just that she isn't very good at explaining things in ways that make sense to me."

Not much of what that girl says makes sense.

"No, I understand completely. I once had a friend like that…" he trailed off and averted his eyes. "I do have time on Wednesday evening, around 7. If that'll work, I'm happy to help you out. It's my job after all,"

"Wednesday is absolutely perfect! Thank you so much Professor," I said.

"Don't worry about it,"

I left his room with a good feeling about the spells I had been having some trouble with. Maybe there's hope for me after all.

* * *

**A/N: Chapter 4!**

**So, I know this isn't the best fic out there. It's probably far from it, but I'm fairly new to writing, and I'm loving this experience. **

**I would really appreciate some feedback; even just saying you like it is super helpful to me. I'm still learning, and telling me what you think will definitely help improve the story. **

**To every one that has liked or followed, thank you so much! It does mean a lot to me that you took the time to read my story, and stick with it. **

**Until next time!**


	5. I Felt My Life Begin

**A/N: Still don't own Harry Potter. **

* * *

Chapter 5: _I Felt my Life Begin_

_George_

"OH MY GOD!"

I spilled ink all over the parchment I was scribbling prank ideas on. Exchanging a look with Fred, we turned our attention to the girl's dormitory from where angry yelling could be heard. After an extremely colorful string of curses floated down, I raised my eyebrows at Fred, who looked sheepish.

"What did you do?" I asked him. My question was answered, however, when Ivy stormed down the steps looking understandably murderous.

The common room slowly quieted to watch the spectacle that was unfolding.

"FRED WEASLEY?!" she shrieked. Angelina pointed her over to us with a grin playing on her lips.

Across from me, Fred looked panicked and cringed when the now green-haired girl jabbed a finger into his chest.

Fred's eyes grew as wide as saucers, for some reason. Usually, angry reactions to pranks didn't faze him; but if I had to be honest, Ivy was terrifying when she was mad. And a little adorable. Especially the way her forehead creased and her nose flared and she got all flushed…

Dear Merlin, I need to stop getting all sappy.

"I cannot BELIEVE you turned my hair GREEN!"

"I'm not Fred, I'm George!" he said quickly. I glared at him, and he shrugged apologetically at me.

"Fred, don't try that bullshit with me! You know I can tell the two of you apart." She snarled.

Fred tried to school his features into a feeble attempt at a grin while she glared at him.

Her lips twitched, then she let a bubble of laughter escape.

"You should have seen your face, Freddie!" The common room watched her with confusion as she doubled over.

"You're not mad at him?" Ginny piped up from across the room, giving her a knowing smile.

"How could I be mad? This is hilarious!" she lifted a lock of lime colored hair and giggled at it. She screwed up her lips and tapped her cheek with her finger. "Although, next time aim for a more flattering color… like purple," Her eyes lit up at the thought, "or blue!"

Fred's jaw dropped and I finally burst into laughter, followed by the rest of the room.

Ivy Miller just successfully pranked us.

Ivy's hair finally faded back into the warm brown it usually was within a few minutes, and she went back up to dormitory after reenacting Fred's reactions for the entire common room.

Ginny walked over to me with a huge grin, "I'm not blind you know," she said, "I see the way you look at her."

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Meaning?"

She looked at me for a moment, "I like her. Don't muck this up, alright?"

"What?"

"Don't. Muck. This. Up. Promise me,"

"I promise,"

Nodding her head, she crossed her arms with a small smile playing at her lips, "I see the way she looks at you too."

Wait, what?

What did that mean?

Before I got a chance to ask her, she was gone, and Fred and I were some of the only students left in the common room.

He sank back into an armchair and stared at me.

"What?" I asked him.

"Just figuring out a way to get you and Ivy together."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"I've got it!" he cried as he snapped his fingers, "Make her laugh! Girls love it when guys are funny."

"Are you implying that I'm not funny?" I arched an eyebrow.

"You already make her laugh; make her laugh even more." He suggested.

"Bugger off, Fred."

"I'm only trying to help. Why are you so cranky all of a sudden?"

"It's just, you keep attempting to 'get me and Ivy together', but you never consider the possibility that she doesn't fancy me like that."

"Merlin, you are so bloody dense."

I glared at him and stood up, "I'm off to bed."

I'd been sleeping fitfully; tossing and turning and tangling myself in the sheets. A muffled thud jolted me out of my thoughts. It sounded like it had come from the common room, so I tip-toed down the dormitory stairs. In my haste to find out the source of the sound, I didn't notice that not only Fred's, but also Lee's bed was empty. Benjamin had retired at 8; he seems to think that if he tries to function on less than 10 hours of sleep, he'll die from exhaustion. I seriously worry for the state of his children. That is, if he ever snatches a bird that'll put up with his shit.

Although, if Percy managed to do it, why couldn't he?

I peeked into the common room and raised my eyebrows wordlessly. Huddled in a circle was Fred, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and Ingrid. Lee was cramming sandwiches off a large platter and into his mouth, while Angelina and Fred were glaring at each other.

Ingrid was the only member of the group that wasn't seated. She paced back and forth in front of them, with her hands gesturing wildly in front of her. Alicia seemed to be asleep, although no one had noticed yet.

"Acid Pop and Pepper Imp, you're both wrong! Now will you can it?! We have more important things to worry ab – Sugar Quill!" she snapped in front of Alicia's face impatiently. Alicia sat up with a start and looked around wildly.

"How are you the lookout if you're never actually looking?"

"Sorry Captain Cauldron Cake."

"That's President Captain Cauldron Cake, to you."

I took this as my queue to leave.

I have never been so confused in my entire life. What in the name of Merlin's pants did I just overhear?

* * *

_Ivy_

Wednesday night came much faster than I thought it would, and with it came the tutoring session that Professor Lupin had promised me.

I entered his classroom a few minutes before I was supposed to, with my nose buried in a roll of parchment. Maisie had lent me her History of Magic notes so that I could cram for a test that we apparently had tomorrow. I've never liked or been good at history. Not at Clarke and certainly not here. My Muggle History professor was actually pretty interesting, but it's not been a class that's kept me interested, and thus, I don't try. Memorizing dates and names and countless facts is much duller than learning how to cast spells and brew potions.

"The sword of Gryffindor is alleged to have originally belonged to Ragnuk the First…" I murmured to myself as I flipped the parchment over and scanned the rest of the page.

I snorted and shook my head, "Hodrod the Horny-Handed? What kind of a name is – oh, hello Professor,"

"Ivy," he said with a smirk, "have a good dinner?"

"Yes, thank you,"

He nodded and clapped his hands once. "Alright, let's get to it then."

He set a series of objects in front of me and asked me to perform all of the charms we had learned thus far in the year.

"That's good, very good. The only problem areas that I see right now is with your body-bind curse and your disarming. It's nearly curfew; why don't we meet again next week and work on honing those two down?"

"That sounds great Professor! I'll see you," I gathered my things and left the room at a brisk pace, mindlessly making my way to Gryffindor tower, when suddenly, I tripped over something and landed on my hand painfully. An echoing crack rang through the hallway, and someone beside me stirred with a groan.

"_Shit_, what was tha-Ivy!"

"George?"

"Oh god! Ivy, are you alright?" a figure bent over me and frowned in concern.

"Ingrid?"

"What was that noise? Is everyone okay?" Alicia appeared from a neighboring hallway while Angelina and Fred threw open the door of a broom cupboard and came barreling out. The latter glared at Ingrid, and Alicia crouched beside me with her brow creased.

"I think she's broken her wrist," said Alicia. She pointed at the hand that I landed on, and I noticed that it was twisted in a very unnatural way. Ingrid swore colorfully and George blinked at them in confusion. He seemed to not have noticed the small trickle of blood that now ran out of his nose, until it reached his lip. He wiped his finger across it and winced.

"Alright, you two need to get to the hospital wing," said Angelina. I nodded and tried to sit up, making the mistake of putting weight onto my injured wrist.

"Fuck!" I hissed in pain. Fred snorted and helped up George, who was trying to stem his bleeding.

We walked to the hospital wing in an awkward silence. Something seemed to have transpired among Ingrid, Fred, and Angelina, because they continued to glare at each other. Madam Pomfrey was stocking a cabinet with vials when we arrived, and catching sight of me and George, she instantly shooed the other four out and pushed me into a freshly made bed. George soon followed, and was tucked into the one beside me, then given a potion reduce the swelling and bleeding in his nose.

I, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Where George only had to endure a mouthful of potion, I had to drink three whole glasses of some lumpy, purple concoction that tasted like wet cardboard and sour milk.

My wrist healed quickly; Madam Pomfrey continued to mutter about some poor boy who had somehow vanished all the bones in his arm last year, as she administered the nasty potion. George and I were ordered to spend the night in the wing, even though both of our injuries were minor and completely fixed.

Ah, well.

I sighed and turned on my side to face George.

"What were you doing out so late?" I asked.

"Fred told me to meet him in the kitchens," sighed George

"You know where the kitchens are?"

He raised his eyebrow at me.

"Of course you do. Wait, then why was Fred with Angelina in that broom closet?"

He shrugged, "They were probably snogging or something."

Madam Pomfrey extinguished the lights in the hospital wing and in her quarters, throwing us into darkness.

A few minutes passed while I tossed and turned; trying to get comfortable on the mattress.

"Ivy?" whispered George.

"Yeah?"

"Sleep well,"

I let out a breathy giggle, "You too."

* * *

_Fred_

"That was probably the most terribly executed plan in all of history. Merlin, Ivy actually broke her wrist!"

Ingrid sighed and put her face in her hands. "I know. I thought maybe we could get them to literally _fall_ for each other…"

Lee rolled his eyes as he stuffed food into his mouth. Angelina grinned and sat up on the sofa.

"At least one good thing came out of this," she said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"George and Ivy are alone in the hospital wing."

Ingrid cackled and clapped her hands, "See! I know my plan wasn't that bad!"

"Ivy's wrist got broken, remember?"

Ingrid glared at everyone then collapsed back on the couch. "I have a feeling that Operation Fizzing Whizzbee isn't very effective."

"No,"

"Not really,"

"Absolutely not,"

"Is anyone going to eat that last sandwich?"

"Then I guess Operation Fizzing Whizzbee is hereby… disbanded. Meeting adjourned." Ingrid sighed tragically and trudged toward the dormitories. Alicia rolled her eyes at the tall girl's theatrics and shook her head.

At least no one'll call me 'Acid Pop' again.

* * *

_Ivy_

"How does this make sense to anyone?" I muttered under my breath. The scratching of quills and occasional sniffs could be heard around the Arithmancy classroom. I stared down at my worksheet in utter befuddlement.

Professor Vector wandered around, examining people's work and making little marks on the papers. Fred, who sat beside me, shrugged with slightly panicky eyes. I bit my lip dipped the tip of the elegant quill in my hand in my inkpot.

"Carry the two, and then add it to the product of the magic square…?" The equation made absolutely no sense to me, and I continued to try and work it out, when something poked me in the back.

"_Divide it by the product_," whispered George from the desk behind me.

Divide it by the-oh! That makes perfect sense, actually.

"The rest of the equations are due tomorrow. Class dismissed," Professor Vector waved her hand and busied herself behind her desk. George sidled up to me, and waited patiently while I gathered my things.

Alicia, Fred, and Lee all left the classroom, each sending a varying facial expression our way; ranging from smug, to borderline suggestive.

Dear god.

"Hey, George?" I asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"You're pretty good at Arithmancy, right?"

"I guess so, why?"

"Would you tutor me?" I asked. I felt heat rush to my face and I glanced at the floor in embarrassment.

"Sure," he agreed with a grin.

I opened my mouth to say something and closed it stupidly. What was it with this boy that made me go all tongue tied?

"Do you want to start tonight?" I nodded and he smiled. "Brilliant,"

That night, I lounged patiently in the common room, and waited for George to get back from Quidditch practice. Not even minutes later, he trudged in, looking freshly showered and clean.

I smiled at him and sat up from the sofa with a stretch.

"How was practice?"

"Best one yet," said George, as he dragged his heavy looking bag behind him. "Wood's going crazy with the whole 'it's my last year as Captain,' thing, and now that Harry's got his Firebolt back –"

"He got it back?" I beamed.

"Yeah. Caught the snitch within 10 seconds –"

"Damn." I've never even heard of that. The Seekers at Clarke weren't very good. I think the fastest Quidditch game we ever had lasted around 45 minutes…

"I've got a good feeling about tomorrow's match." he grinned and pulled out his book, "Alright, so, arithmancy…"

An hour later, I was _way_ less confused, and finishing up the assignment that Vector had given us. I scribbled madly on the parchment, as George tried to balance a quill on his adorable nose. Glancing up from my work, I watched him for a moment.

God, I can't focus with him sitting there being so distracting.

My quill slipped from my fingers and I groaned. George and I leaned down and groped around on the floor for it, both reaching the feathered thing at the same time.

I looked up at George and met his deep blue eyes. With a sudden swooping feeling, I realized just how close we were.

Our faces inched even closer, close enough for me to feel his breath wisp across my face. He brought his hand up to brush my cheek and my breathing slowed.

Time stopped, it was only George. George's lips; George's eyes; George's spattering of freckles –

The clock on the wall chimed 7.

With a start, he stood up and handed me my quill; his face bright red, and his eyes averted.

"I… I should get to bed. Quidditch match in the morning…"

It was another hour before I could bring myself to even function properly. I walked numbly to my dormitory and sank on my bed.

"Ivy? What's wrong?" Ingrid knelt beside me and waved her hand in front of my face, "Angelina!"

The Chaser leapt off her bed nimbly and crossed the floor to where Ingrid sat.

"Ivy, I will not hesitate to slap you. Tell us what's happened,"

"We…"

"Ivy!"

"He almost…" I trailed off again.

"Merlin forgive me," Angelina drew her hand back and slapped me sharply across the face.

"What was that for?!" I shouted and clutched my cheek.

"Ivy, focus! What's happened?"

"George and I almost kissed,"

Ingrid screamed. Angelina rolled her eyes and turned back to me.

"Then what's the problem? What do you mean by almost? It's been obvious to the rest of us that he's been crazy about you since the day you got here. I don't know why you've been refusing to believe it for so long."

"I haven't been –"

"Don't even try,"

"Yeah, Ivy. I don't know why you're so reluctant to admit your feelings for him out loud. I still haven't heard you say it." Ingrid pointed out.

"But –"

"No buts. Do you like George or don't you?"

"I do," I muttered.

"What was that?" asked Angelina.

"Fine! I like George. I like him so much more than I ever thought I would, and it's driving me crazy!"

"Then why are you so terrified of the idea of –" said Ingrid.

"Because he's one of my best friends!" I interrupted, "What if it doesn't work out, and we end up hating each other?! What if we stop talking and –"

"What are you _so _bloody afraid of?! What if it does work out? Isn't that worth the risk? Gods, you just feel the need to over-complicate everything! When will the two of you wake up and realize that you're perfect for each other?!" raged Angelina.

I fell silent and studied the scratched floorboards around my bedpost. Angelina and Ingrid both left me alone in their annoyance.

Was it really worth the risk?

The next day, I walked down to the Quidditch pitch with Ingrid. She seemed to have cooled off from last night and was back to her usual bouncy self.

The game went off without a hitch. Harry was a blur on his Firebolt; it was dizzing trying to watch him race around the field. I very nearly had a heart attack when he performed a few death-defying dives. Suddenly, Ingrid gripped my arm and pointed at the grassy pitch. Three tall, hooded, dementors all looked straight up at Harry, who shot a blinding silver spell at them; bowling them over.

He closed his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.

The referee's whistle sounded; the Gryffindor team all surrounded Harry in midair and was hugging him so hard that I was afraid he'd fall off his broom. Everyone in the stands was screaming and celebrating the Gryffindor victory.

Ron Weasley shot out of his seat, followed by Hermione and a group of third years. The rest of us followed; eager to make it onto the field to celebrate alongside the team.

I stood in the crowd, my eyes searching for someone in particular. I reached out and pulled Angelina over to me.

"I'm sorry," I said.

She merely grinned, "Ivy, it's fine. Now go and congratulate George."

I nodded and she shoved me into him with a wink, before sauntering off into the mass.

"Congrats!" I shouted above the din.

He smirked and grabbed my waist, spinning me around in a loose circle. Chuckling, he set me down.

"Thank you," he winked.

He glanced to the right and his face brightened. "Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over to the raven haired boy. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry, with an enormous grin, he and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

The party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George dragged me off down some secret passageway to Hogsmeade to get 'provisions'. We were gone for a couple of hours and, after a quick stop in the kitchens (way cooler than it sounds), returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

Fred winked at me and turned to talk to Harry. I settled myself down at a table to watch Fred and George juggle butterbeer bottles. Lee perched next to me with a sly smile.

"Hello Lee," I said.

"So," he said, "I have it on very good authority that you fancy yourself a George Weasley,"

My eyes grew wide and I glared at Angelina who was seated in the middle of a group of admirers.

"No, Angelina didn't tell me. And it wasn't Ingrid either,"

"Then how –"

"It just so happens that I was on my way down from the fourth year girl's dorm –"

"How –"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. As I was saying, I passed by the fifth year dorm, and I heard the _most_ interesting thing."

I realized what he was talking about and looked away from him.

"I have to agree with Angelina. It's worth the risk." With that he stood up and made his way to a gaggle of girls.

It's worth the risk.

I stood up and marched across the common room to where George was now doling out boxes of Chocolate Frogs and Fudge Flies. He grinned when he caught sight of me and handed me a package of sweets.

"How d'you like the party?"

"It's great, uh, can I talk to you? Alone?"

He raised an eyebrow and nodded. I turned away from him and led him out of the common room and out of the portrait hole.

"So what's this all about?"

"Last night –"

"Oh,"

I took a deep breath and jumped straight in,

"I must be completely _insane_ for doing this, but… I like you. A lot. Actually, I like you way too much for it to be okay, and I've been telling myself that it's just a phase. That I'll get over you at some point, but the more time I spend with you, the more I realize that I don't want to. I want to feel like I'm going to burst every damn time you smile, or do something adorable and I have to talk myself out of just kissing you whenever I see you, because I've been so afraid to lose this amazing friendship that we have. I have to keep telling myself that this is worth the risk, and I get it if you don't feel the same way. Really, I do. I know that if you don't, I've completely thrown this whole thing down the drain,"

"Ivy,"

"I just don't want to leave with any regrets. I'm only going to be here for a couple more months and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't take this chance –"

"Why would you ever think that I don't feel the same way? I have trouble sleeping some nights because I can't get your laugh out of my head, or stop thinking about the way your eyes just light up at the littlest thing, or how completely gorgeous you are, even when you're angry. I've never met anyone like you."

All of these beautiful things just kept pouring out of his mouth, and none of it registered because I launched myself at him and all at once, he swept me into his arms –

His mouth brushed mine almost tentatively at first, then firmly as I kissed him back.

It was delicate, and sweet, and innocent; his lips tasted like peppermint and he smelled… clean. Like the rain. The hallway was silent, then full of pounding noise as the portrait hole swung open again.

"FINALLY!" someone shrieked. Alicia was standing there with a bottle of butterbeer and a relieved look on her face.

The music fell quiet and then everyone was cat-calling and hooting and cheering.

"I swear, watching you two dodge around each other was getting seriously old." said Alicia, as she turned back around and let the portrait swing shut.

George set me down and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "So, do you want to, er, go out? With me? On a date or something?"

"Yes, I would love to."

"Brilliant,"

* * *

**A/N: CHAPTER 5! Oh my goodness!**

**So, it bears _some_ resemblance to Interlude, but I've obviously changed quite a bit. I'm working on the next chapter, and it will be posted as soon as I finalize it, but exam week is approaching, so I can't promise anything. Chapter 6 WILL be posted by at least the last week of May. Maybe before.**

**REVIEW!**

**Until next time!**


	6. The Harbor Becomes the Sea

**A/N: Still don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Chapter 6: _The Harbor Becomes the Sea_

_Ivy_

"Brilliant,"

George and I stood there grinning at each other for God knows how long, my brown eyes searching his blue. I want to drown in those things, they're like the deep end of a pool.

Another burst of music filtered out of the common room, and Fred stepped out with a giggling blonde girl clinging to his forearm.

"Whoops," breathed the teetering girl, her eyes flew between Fred and George, then another giggle escaped her lips, "I'm seeing double!"

I pressed my lips together to suppress my smile, meeting George's eyes with an amused look. Fred scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It's alright, um, what's your name?" I asked her.

She guffawed and stuck her tongue out, "Bra – Bara – Brabara!"

"Barbara?"

"That's the ticket!" she screamed, I bit my lip painfully to keep from laughing at the obviously drunk girl.

"We were just going in," I managed to spit out; George threw a wink to his twin, then followed me into the common room. As the portrait swung shut, I exploded in laughter, along with George.

"Oh, it hurts too much," I gasped and clutched my ribs as my eyes watered. George was thrown across an armchair and had his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook from the force of his chuckles.

I've never heard a laugh quite like his. That was another thing that set him apart from Fred. Fred's laughs were deep, booming things that rang. They were often contagious, and hardly ever contained, but George's were different. Like a burbling stream, they were quiet, merry, and personal. The kind of laughter that made you want to join in on your own. The kind of laughter that made you wish that you were there, sharing in the fun.

"Brabara!" he mimicked with a wrinkled nose, and a snicker. This only fueled my uncontrollable, and probably unattractive, chortling.

The party finally wound down when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair net at one in the morning, to insist that we all go to bed. Once we were in the dorms, Ingrid and Angelina threw their arms around me and danced around.

"Yes! They're together! You owe me 7 bloody sickles, Maisie!" cried Alicia.

"You were betting on us?" I shrieked indignantly.

Maisie blushed and burrowed under her covers. Alicia and the rest of the girls giggled and also clambered into their large four-poster beds; I sighed and mimicked them, cocooning myself into about three layers of blankets.

I tossed and turned for hours, it seemed like. I was ready to fall asleep, but I couldn't get comfortable enough to finally drift off. I was sorely tempted to check under my mattress for a pea, and I entertained the idea for a minute or so, when a commotion jolted me awake –

"AAARGH! NOOO!"

I heard bed hangings get drawn to the side, "Did anyone hear that?" asked Ingrid.

"Yeah," I called out and shuffled myself off the bed, "Let's go see what it is,"

Alicia silently joined us, pulling on a robe and yawning into the back of her hand quietly. We crept down the stairs cautiously, finding the common room filling up with a few boys; most of them were huddled around a shock of red hair, a boy I recognized to be George's younger brother, and murmuring confusedly. George spotted me across the common room and fought his way over to me with a smile.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

Ingrid raised her eyebrows at Alicia and me in bemusement. Fred popped up out of nowhere with a bright smile and twinkling eyes, like he hadn't just been asleep (which he probably wasn't), carrying on about restarting the party.

"Perce - Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

It was like someone had cast a silencing spell on the entire room. Everyone was holding their breath with wide eyes.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking thoroughly off-guard and lost, "You had too much to eat, Ron - had a nightmare -"

"I'm telling you -"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall had stormed back into the common room, slamming the portrait behind her and staring furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy with a puffed out chest, "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare -"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

_What?_ I grabbed George's hand and squeezed it firmly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw -"

With a skeptical eyebrow raised, an expression that would have been hilarious in another circumstance, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened in quietly. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You - you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But - but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the terrified crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said with a dangerous tremor in her voice, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

God bless this kid's soul; I watched with wide eyes as a mousy third year boy raised his trembling hand slowly in the air.

* * *

_George_

Have I ever mentioned how long it's been since I've seen the sun?

Five months.

Five whole months of overcast and rainy days. This morning, the sunlight woke me up. The sunlight! I was giddy to the point of annoying Fred. He didn't understand why I was just as deliriously happy at seven in the morning as I was at five in the evening.

"It's just a bit of sunlight! No one else is this excited about it," he grumbled.

At that very moment, Ivy came leaping up to us with a wide smile on her face.

"Isn't this weather absolutely gorgeous?" She asked, then twirled a little bit, "I'm meeting Ingrid in the library, so I'll see you later," after bobbing away from us, Fred shook his head and turned to me.

"I stand corrected," he grinned as he flopped back onto the sofa and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table nearby.

That weekend brought with it another trip to Hogsmeade, and my first date with Ivy. We agreed to meet in the common room before breakfast, and so I sat on my favorite overstuffed armchair and waited for her to descend from the girl's dormitories. I feel unnecessarily nervous. What if this whole thing goes south?

"George?" I jumped out of my seat and spun around wildly. With a timid grin, Ivy tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "You ready to head down to breakfast?"

I nodded and offered her my hand, "You look amazelous," I grimaced, "I mean, you look fantastic,"

She cocked an eyebrow and grasped my outstretched palm, "Amazelous?"

I felt my face burn, but I beamed and lead her out of the common room, "a mixture between amazing and marvelous."

"Ah," she smiled and glanced up at me, "well then, you look amazelous as well," we made our way into the great hall. This won't be so bad then. It's just like it usually is, only we'll be on a date.

I'm on a date with Ivy Miller.

I couldn't stop the beginnings of a grin. "What?" chuckled Ivy as she took a seat beside me at the long Gryffindor table.

"I'm just really excited to be on a date with you," I confessed. She blushed and squeezed the hand she was still holding.

"Me too,"

I made eye contact with Ginny down the table. She winked at me and went back to shoveling food into her mouth. She was a Weasley, through and through.

Ivy and I made it to Hogsmeade without trouble; she immediately dragged me into Honeydukes with the widest smile I have ever seen in my entire life. As she pushed her way through the crowd, I got a good look at her. She was wearing a floaty blue top over a pair of shorts. Fred, who happened to be browsing through an aisle nearby with a girl on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, caught my appraisal of Ivy and winked at me with a cheeky grin on his face.

I don't think I've ever noticed before, but Ivy's legs are rather shapely. It's a nice contrast to some of the stick-like girls that attended our school. She glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled prettily, the small dimple on her right cheek revealing itself like it did on rare occasions.

"Do you want to go splitsies on a box of chocolate? I thought it would be nice to share it," she offered and held out a small box of truffles.

"Er, splitsies?"

She blushed and shifted her weight onto her other foot, "Sorry, American thing, um… splitsies is when you split the cost of something,"

"Oh. Sure," I said and grabbed the box on the counter, setting down a sickle beside Ivy's.

Now armed with the box of chocolates, we wandered through the streets of Hogsmeade, fishing out pieces of the candy and sampling the different flavors. Within minutes, we had stumbled upon a substantially less crowded part of the village. Cottages lined the cobbled street, and a small gray cat ran across the road.

"This is a change from High Street…" she commented on the lack of people crisscrossing the road.

"You can say that again," I said as we traveled along. Suddenly, we were hit with one of the most heavenly scents I have ever smelled in my entire life. A quick glance at Ivy proved that she had smelled it too.

"What in the world is that?" murmured Ivy with a look of pure bliss on her face.

"I have no idea," I said, pulling her along the road in a hurry to find the source of the smell.

I came to a stop in front of an open kissing gate, and a gravel path that led to a small cottage with a bright green door, and a sign planted into the shrubs that advertised a bakery. Smoke curled invitingly from the chimney, and an open sign hung on the door. Ivy and I entered the small shop cautiously, with intrigued expressions. A matronly woman at the front of the store beamed at the sight of us.

"Sebastian!" she yelled in excitement, wiping her floury hands onto her apron. A smudge of batter was visible on one of her rounded cheeks, and her graying hair was tucked into a messy bun that was held together with a wand.

A graying man with wrinkles around his eyes poked his head from behind a curtain. "Yes Mary?"

"Look! Students!" she exclaimed as she bustled out from behind the counter and approached us. "It's been quite some time since we've had students in here! Please, sit!" she directed us to a tiny round table with two chairs beside it. Ivy sat down and giggled a little bit. I followed her and inhaled the rich, honeyed scent of baking bread and sugary cakes with pleasure, glancing around in interest. The walls were littered with paintings and photographs of people, all of whom waved merrily at us. A roaring fire filled the room with a warm glow. The wood of the table beneath my hands was rough and worn and scratched from years and years of mugs scraping across it.

"What would you dears like? We've got scones, biscuits, tea," offered Mary with a smile.

Ivy's eyes lit up and she exchanged a look with me, "Do you have hot chocolate?"

Mary smiled, "We do,"

"Could we get two hot chocolates?"

Mary nodded and bustled off into what must have been the kitchen. I turned to Ivy and chuckled at the giddy look on her face. Not moments later, Mary returned with a steaming tray that held our drinks.

"Let me know if I can get you anything else," she chirped and set down the foamy hot chocolate. Ivy nodded her thanks and pulled the mug closer to her. Cradling it close to her body, she took a tentative sip. She set the mug down and swallowed carefully.

"How is it?" I asked. She held up a finger and closed her eyes. I waited for a moment, then Ivy popped her eyes open and grinned.

"That has to be some of the tastiest hot chocolate I've ever had,"

I raised my eyebrow at her speculatively. Obviously she'd never had my mother's hot chocolate. Wanting to test out her claim myself, I raised the mug to my lips and drank deeply. Immediately, I was hit with a myriad of flavor; rich, creamy, sweet, smooth. An odd taste lingered on my lips and tongue. I hesitated, then recognized what it was.

"Is that?"

"Cinnamon, yes."

"Huh." I felt like I was cheating on my mother's hot chocolate.

Ivy was looking at me expectantly with the mug still held between her hands. I grinned at her and took another gulp.

"It is pretty good…" I admitted.

"Ha!" she crowed.

We spent the next hour talking and laughing, Mary only interrupted us once to clear away our long empty mugs. After thanking the owners of the bakery profusely, and promising to stop by the next Hogsmeade weekend, we made our way back to the castle hand-in-hand.

* * *

_Ivy_

I spent the next week or so with this goofy smile plastered across my face. I was found grinning to myself in the library by Angelina.

"What's got you so happy?" she asked as she plopped herself into a chair across from me and smirked.

I sighed and put my head in hands. Angelina raised an eyebrow with an amused look on her face.

"Is it George?" she asked. I nodded and felt heat rush to my cheeks suddenly. She shook her head in exasperation then stood up abruptly. "I need to find a book for divination…" she muttered something that sounded rather angry under her breath about her 'pointless dream journal' and stalked off toward a section of colorful and spangled books nearby. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the Astronomy textbook I had been trying (and failing) to absorb. I slammed the book shut in annoyance and huffed, stretching out across the sofa.

"Need some help there?" asked an unfamiliar voice. I looked up to find one of the other exchange students standing above me with an amused look on his face. It was Mr. I-Drooled-All-Over-You-And-Didn't-Have-The-Decency-To-Apologize.

"Pardon?" I asked, sitting up. Drooly McDroolFace circled around the couch and came to a stop in front of me.

"You just looked like you needed help with your Astronomy…"

"Oh…" I was confused. This was the most I'd spoken to one of the other exchange students in a long time; I couldn't stand Lenore or Ross, but I hadn't ever really said much to Spittle Sleeper other than 'hello' on the train…

I feel terrible for not remembering his name.

"Um, Ivy right? I'm Max," he stuck his hand out and looked at me expectantly.

That's right! Max was his name. I took his hand and shook it. "Nice to officially meet you then, Max. And some help with this would be great, to be honest…"

It wouldn't do to snub a guy when I barely knew him, let alone one that I exchanged less than thirty words with. He settled in beside me and pulled out his identical copy of _Astronomy of the 21__st__ Century_.

"So, what's got you in such a fuss?" I suddenly remembered that his school, Goodwin, was in Georgia. That explained the slight southern accent I heard.

I gave a nervous laugh, "All of it…"

Astronomy might be my worst subject, next to History of Magic. Or Herbology. God knows that plants hate me…

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, yet said nothing. "Well then, let's start from the beginning."

An hour or so later, and after being joined briefly by Angelina before she headed off to Quidditch practice, I was sufficiently caught up on most of what I needed to know for the fast approaching O. . I sighed and leaned back on the dark brown sofa.

"Do you like Hogwarts more than Goodwin?" I asked him after a beat.

"I was excited to come, but it's a little _too_ exciting here for me, I think." He admitted, brushing a hand through his dark hair, "What about you? Do you like it here more than… Clarke, right?"

I nodded and paused. I feel… _different_ here – at Hogwarts.

In the short time I've been here, with the people, the landscape, everything; it had become much more of a home to me than Clarke or the comfortable condo where I lived with my family. Of course, I love my parents, nothing will ever change that, but it never felt right at Clarke. It was like I was on a loop everyday over there. Nothing got exciting, nothing livened up my days. Go to class. Do homework. Hang out with Maggie. Rinse and repeat.

But Hogwarts… Hogwarts kept things interesting.

"I do," I said with conviction. Max rose an eyebrow, and rested his ankle on his thigh.

"So, given the choice, you would stay at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah,"

Max nodded and regarded me with curiosity, "I have to get to Divination. I'll see you around Miller,"

"Later Max,"

The following few days trickled past me at a snail-like pace, and I found myself craving the weekend that was to come or a distraction to take my mind off the stress of O. . That distraction presented itself to me on Thursday, when Professor Sprout approached me during Herbology.

"Miss Miller, could you deliver this package to Professor Hagrid after class today?"

I nodded and spent the rest of class speculating what the parcel might contain with Ingrid while she tended to our set of Fanged Geraniums – she wouldn't let me near the things; said I traumatized them the last time I had tried to re-pot them or something.

I left Greenhouse seven and made my way down to Hagrid's hut. His N.E.W.T level class had just left for dinner, so I stood alone outside the building and tentatively knocked. Muffled noises could be heard inside, and a few barks. I stepped back instinctively as the door swung open and the kind, although splotchy, face of Hagrid looked down at me.

"Hullo Ivy, What brings yeh here?" he said hoarsely.

"Professor Sprout asked me to deliver this to you…" I held up the package. He took it from me and beamed.

"Thank yeh, Ivy. Would yeh like some tea?" he offered. I hesitated, then nodded. I hadn't gotten to speak much with Hagrid, besides during class, so I stepped into his hut and looked around in interest.

Hagrid set the package on the table and hastily untied it, revealing a bundle of what looked like knobby, orange celery.

"If you don't mind me asking, what're those?" I asked.

"They're called Finnish gurgle-roots. The unicorns really like 'em as a treat." He set the stalks down and busied himself preparing tea in a copper kettle. "We're doin' unicorns next week in the fifth year class."

I beamed and accepted a large mug from the large man. "I've always wanted to see a unicorn,"

A loud screech from outside drew our attention, as a hippogriff with mottled grey feathers stalked past the window and settled itself into the pumpkin patch near Hagrid's hut. Hagrid stared at it for a moment, his black beetle eyes looking distant and faraway.

"Hagrid?" I asked.

"Eh?" he turned to look at me and brushed what looked like a tear from his scraggly beard.

"Are you alright?"

"'m fine," I raised an eyebrow at his hurried response, and he set the kettle down on the table to fiddle with a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth, "It's just Buckbeak out there, he's, and well, he's not…"

He paused for a moment and turned to gaze out the window again. "D'you want to meet 'im? He loves meeting new people,"

I grinned, "I'd love to."

* * *

**A/N: CHAPTER 6! POW!**

**Summer break officially begins this week! I should be able to hammer out the next chapter soon, and it should feature a bit more George/Ivy interaction. **

**As always: REVIEW!**

**Until next time!**


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